


the scorched field

by Kaatyr



Series: The Sorcerer's Receptionist AU [2]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Audio Format: MP3, M/M, One Shot, Podfic Available
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:21:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28726527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaatyr/pseuds/Kaatyr
Summary: A knight requests help from the Hunter Guild in regard to a dragon causing problems for local farmers. Kurapika is forced to work with someone that he really doesn't like, but Leorio's there to offer support. When Kurapika falls under the influence of a powerful spell, the mission takes a dangerous turn.
Relationships: Kurapika/Leorio Paladiknight
Series: The Sorcerer's Receptionist AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2091129
Kudos: 33





	the scorched field

**Author's Note:**

> This story is available in audio form for those who would prefer to listen rather than read. Please note that this is a text to speech recording, which means that there may be some issues with it.
> 
> [Stream or download MP3 from Google Drive](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1kP1QBNJunbAaBrPXvJ3Ek1MrCHwxF7wn/view?usp=sharing)

Kurapika tacked the last job request into place on the board, frowning thoughtfully as he skimmed the content. He’d already heard about the situation, of course. Everybody had, but seeing the particulars laid out in writing gave a fresh perspective.

Gossip was rife with speculation, but the details were scant. The youngest prince, Killua of the ruling Zoldyck family, had disappeared. There was no sign of foul play, but that did not mean that there was none. The reward offered by the royal family for the prince’s safe return was astronomical. Just yesterday, Doctor Paladiknight had commented that he could easily retire with that much money. He’d then gone on to ask Kurapika what he would do with that much money. Kurapika’s response had left the doctor incredulous. “I’d buy a new suit,” Kurapika had answered, with a completely sincere and deadpan expression.

He’d meant it, too. Even if he earned himself enough money to never have to work again, Kurapika couldn’t quit his job. He had personal reasons for becoming a receptionist—not that he expected the money-obsessed doctor to understand that.

Though maybe he was judging Doctor Paladiknight a little harshly. After being on the receiving end of Doctor Paladiknight’s care, Kurapika sensed that the doctor was more invested in his job than he made out to be.

“Thank you, Kurapika,” Melody said when Kurapika paused beside her desk on his way back to his own.

“It’s no problem,” Kurapika demurred. It was normally Melody who put out the job requests on the board every morning, but today she had her hands full with a new recruit.

Ice-blue eyes stared sullenly at Kurapika from a pale, young face surrounded by a mop of black hair. The boy lounged on the chair beside Melody, looking as if he were watching star plums grow.

“Good luck today, Zuki,” Kurapika offered to the young man. He’d been making more of an effort to be nice to the other guild employees since Melody had pointed out that they were having difficulty interacting with him. Kurapika wasn’t sure he wanted to get too friendly with them—a healthy distance should be maintained—but he was learning that a few platitudes and basic social niceties would go a long way toward making his working relationship with them smoother.

Besides, Zuki was new, and more promising than the Nostrade girl, even if he affected a bored veneer. He was highly knowledgable about the different elements, despite his young age, and had an innate understanding of the magical applications of each that Kurapika envied. Such knowledge would help Zuki in deciding which jobs were best suited to which sorcerer.

It was unusual for the guild to take on someone so young, but Kurapika had heard that Zuki had passed several exams intended to test his skill with admirable ease. Though he hadn’t presented any physical evidence to prove that he’d graduated magic school, his capability proved it beyond a shadow of a doubt. Even the usually-cynical Kurapika had failed to mount an objection. The rest of his colleagues took that to mean that none existed, a reaction that left Kurapika feeling quietly appalled.

“Yeah, thanks,” Zuki replied, studying Kurapika from beneath his eyelashes as if Kurapika were a weed growing in an otherwise pristine garden.

Kurapika couldn’t offer the same sentiment to Melody out loud since Zuki might have been offended by it, but he tried to convey it through a look, anyway. Melody seemed to understand because she smiled at him.

“Don’t forget to take your break today, Kurapika,” she said. “Or at the very least, make sure that you get something to eat.”

Kurapika felt the tips of his ears burn. He’d been getting a hard time from some of his colleagues lately after they had realised that he was skipping breaks, sometimes even avoiding them by lying to those who offered to take over from him. He’d tell them with an appreciative but regretful smile that he’d already taken a break earlier. That tactic had worked for a little while, at least.

Kurapika wished that they would all mind their own business. Unfortunately, if word reached Director Cheadle’s ears that he was overworking himself and not adhering to a receptionist’s usual schedule, he’d find himself on the receiving end of one of her lectures. Kurapika had no desire to land himself in that position, so he simply nodded in assent to Melody before continuing on to his own desk, his papers already neatly sorted and stacked, ready for the day.

Kurapika’s first sorcerer of the day was a face that he rarely saw. Bisky was someone Kurapika could get along with surprisingly well. Her brisk manner made it easy for him to keep matters to business.

“It was nothing,” Bisky declared when Kurapika inquired as to how her previous job had gone.

I very much doubt that, Kurapika thought to himself as he scanned the signed job paper she’d handed him. Bisky was an S-ranked sorcerer who preferred to take treasure hunting jobs. She rarely came to the guild headquarters since most of the jobs she took on were not the kind that could be completed in a day or two—which meant that Kurapika hadn’t planned on seeing her that day. Nonetheless, he thought he knew of a job that might suit her.

“I’m glad to hear that. Will you be looking for a new job immediately?” Kurapika inquired.

“Certainly, if you have something worthwhile,” Bisky answered.

With her bouncy blonde ponytail and youthful face, it would have been easy to mistake Bisky for a child, but Kurapika knew that she was actually older than him. He had no idea how she managed to look so young, but suspected that a spell was responsible for it. Likely an illusion spell. If it was an illusion spell, it was a really high-level one, if the naked eye could find no fault with it.

“Excuse me.”

Kurapika briefly left his desk to approach the job board. As he reached up to untack a certain piece of paper, his eye hovered on another one.

It had been up on the board for a long time. It seemed as if it would be right for Bisky, yet the fact that it had been available for so long deterred Kurapika from offering it.

If Bisky took that particular job, she’d be the second sorcerer to attempt it. The job seemed simple enough: map the Glass Peaks ruins in the Dolcyne mountains. The Glass Peaks ruins were left over from an ancient and advanced civilisation that had disappeared over a thousand years ago. For some reason researchers had yet to determine, no demons could enter the area and no magic would work there. The area was seemingly safe—

—so why had the sorcerer sent to map the ruins vanished without a trace?

That was a question that no one could answer, and it kept Kurapika from suggesting that job to any of his sorcerers. Twelve years was a long time to go without an answer, and the sorcerer who had ventured into those ruins all that time ago was likely dead by now.

Even the other receptionists avoided that job. It seemed as if it were only kept on the board out of sentimentality—or a faint hope that one day the vanished sorcerer would return.

Kurapika tore his eyes away from the Glass Peaks request and retrieved the copy of the first job he’d thought of. It was a job that had been up there for a few weeks already. Poking around in the ruins of Altar was not a pleasant prospect for most sorcerers, as the weather was unstable and the location very remote, but Kurapika suspected that Bisky would relish the challenge.

Kurapika sat down behind his desk as Bisky eyed the paper he’d spread on its surface curiously.

“The Suketoki family are searching for a one-of-a-kind carving rumoured to be in the ruins of Altar on the border of the Ciryn Kingdom,” Kurapika explained. “Attempts have been made to enter the ruins, but it is a maze of magical traps and infested with weak but numerous bee demons.”

“Hmm.” Bisky’s finger rose thoughtfully to her chin as she considered the job. “This might be a job for more than one sorcerer.”

“It is S-rank,” Kurapika agreed. “There’s no rule that says you can’t split the reward. Also, the Suketoki family are only after the carving. Whatever else you happen to find in there… I imagine that it’s yours for the taking,” Kurapika concluded.

The particular carving the noble family was searching for had been drawn on the job page. Kurapika personally thought it was ugly. It seemed to be the figure of a kneeling man at a fleeting glance, but a closer look revealed that the man had some very inhuman features, like the short horns that Kurapika had initially taken for ears, and the long curve of his nails. Kurapika couldn’t imagine why the family wanted the carving; it couldn’t be for its appearance, surely? But maybe it was a magical artefact. Would have been nice if they’d included that information in the job request. Magical artefacts could be a lot of trouble for any sorcerer trying to retrieve and transport them.

Bisky didn’t seem daunted by the carving, however.

“It sounds perfect,” she said, grinning in anticipation. “I’ve been wanting to visit the Altar ruins for a while—and now I’ll get paid for it!”

Was everybody obsessed with money?

Kurapika’s success with Bisky was replicated with his other sorcerers. He slowly worked his way through the long list of jobs waiting to be distributed. The day seemed as if it would go much like any other.

Until a black-haired man wearing a military uniform walked in. Kurapika’s blood heated up at the mere sight of him. He mentally willed the knight not to approach him, but the message—and his icy glare—didn’t seem to register with the knight, who walked up to his desk wearing a smile that begged to be punched off.

At least, that was how Kurapika felt about it, anyway. He was (understandably, in his opinion) biased. Kurapika glanced around, hoping that he could pretend that he had somewhere to be and foist the visitor off on someone else, but his hopes were in vain. None of the other receptionists, including the charming Baise, who was chatting with a handsome sorcerer at the front desk, were free.

“Good morning, Kurapika,” the knight said.

Kurapika gritted his teeth. “Good morning, Captain Lucilfer. How can I help you today?” He had to force the words out past his dislike of the man.

Lucilfer’s smile widened, as if he’d scented blood in the water. Kurapika wondered if he’d actually lick his lips. Bastard.

“How has your day been, Kurapika?” Lucilfer asked sweetly. “As mundane as ever, I hope. Though I heard that you did have some excitement recently. How are your hands?”

“Entirely healed,” Kurapika responded. What a busybody. How had he even heard about that? “How can I help you, Captain?”

Finally, Lucilfer got down to business. “I need to speak to Director Cheadle,” he said.

Thrilled at having an excuse to leave Lucilfer’s presence, Kurapika said, with a bit too much eagerness, “I’ll let her know right away. Excuse me.”

He fled into the halls of the guild building, slowing to a leisurely stroll as he left the sight of his colleagues. He was in no hurry to disturb the director or return to Lucilfer, but he couldn’t delay forever.

Director Cheadle was in her office, as Kurapika had expected. Once he informed her that Captain Lucilfer wanted to speak with her, she decided to accompany Kurapika back to the main hall rather than have Kurapika escort Lucilfer to her. That was fine with Kurapika. The less time he had to spend as the sole focus of Lucilfer’s attention, the better.

His first meeting with the captain had been when his colleagues had somehow managed to talk him into going to a bar with them. Kurapika had been new to the job, and felt he wasn’t able to refuse. Lucilfer and his squad of knights had intruded on their gathering. To Kurapika’s dismay, one of the knights had mistaken him for a girl and hit on him. Kurapika had tried to politely refuse the man’s advances, but the drunk man hadn’t seemed to be able to comprehend that Kurapika was actually a man. The situation had deteriorated until a desperate Kurapika had finally thrown his drink in the knight’s face. None of his colleagues, who had been trying to politely extract Kurapika from the uncomfortable situation for several minutes, held it against him, but the knights were less than pleased that their comrade had been assaulted. Lucilfer had intervened (finally!) but Kurapika was hardly grateful for that. Lucilfer had obviously been aware of the situation as it unfolded, and yet had done nothing to stop it.

Maybe it was unfair of Kurapika to hold the incident against Lucilfer alone, but he did. Lucilfer had worn a patronising little smile the whole time he’d been ‘apologising’ to Kurapika, as if he thought it was funny. He’d then gone on to suggest that Kurapika should dress in a more manly style if he didn’t want to be mistaken for a girl. Kurapika, who had been waring a rather nice red jacket at the time, which flared rather flatteringly to his knees, felt incensed. His argument of, “I told him I was a man. How much clearer do I need to be?” fell on deaf ears.

And Lucilfer didn’t seem to care that Kurapika disliked him. He still seemed to find the whole thing amusing, as if Kurapika were a travelling troupe’s performing monkey, there for the captain’s own personal entertainment.

Kurapika took his seat at the desk as Cheadle greeted Lucilfer. He listened with half an ear as he flipped through the papers. Noting an error on one of them, he penned in a correction while also making a mental note to let Baise know.

From what Kurapika gathered from his eavesdropping, the knights needed help with a domesticated dragon causing problems for farmers in the area. No one knew why the dragon was acting up, and few had the skill to go toe-to-toe with one. Lucilfer intended to look into the situation personally, but needed some help. Some magical help.

It wasn’t unusual for knights to request the help of guild sorcerers or receptionists. They had skills that the battle-focused knights didn’t possess. Kurapika, personally, wouldn’t relish going up against a dragon without a knight (and preferably several of them) at his side—or, even better, between himself and the dragon. Dragons, with their tough hides and powerful flame breath, were very hard to kill. There were those who swore they’d rather face a demon instead. Taming a dragon was something that was only ever attempted by specially trained sorcerers.

After Director Cheadle promised to arrange assistance for Lucilfer, the knight captain left, much to Kurapika’s relief, though not without wishing him a good day with a smarmy smile. Kurapika was forced to return the sentiment, since Director Cheadle was still standing right there beside the captain, though he wanted very badly to just brush Lucilfer off with the proper level of chill that the captain deserved.

Kurapika’s irritation with Lucilfer faded as his day got back to normal.

Unfortunately for him, he’d be seeing Lucilfer again very soon.

* * *

Only a direct order from Director Cheadle could convince Kurapika to work alongside Lucilfer. The only saving grace was that he wouldn’t have to suffer Lucilfer’s presence alone.

Doctor Paladiknight stared warily at the knight captain, clearly uncertain of what to make of him. Lucilfer wasn’t wearing his uniform today. Instead, he wore a fur-lined black coat over a dark grey shirt and his hair was slicked back from his face, revealing the cross-shaped mark on his forehead. He also didn’t appear to be carrying any weapons; only a book which he held as though he were familiar and comfortable with it, as if he carried it around with him so much that he’d forgotten it was there.

The book looked old and worn, a thick tome with leather binding. Kurapika loved books. He wanted a closer look, but there was absolutely no way he was going to ask Lucilfer about it. He’d rather throw himself in front of a dragon’s flames.

That option might very well be available to him soon.

“I’m a little confused,” Doctor Paladiknight began. “Why am I here?”

Kurapika thought that he looked adorable with his perplexed frown and uncomfortable posture.

Melody, who had just provided them with the scant information Lucilfer and Director Cheadle had compiled, looked between the three of them.

“A doctor might be necessary, given the fact that you will be dealing with a dragon,” Melody explained.

“It’s the ‘dealing with a dragon’ part that I have a problem with,” Doctor Paladiknight replied.

Kurapika had to agree. “Excuse me, but I am not exactly sure what I’m doing here, either,” he put in.

To his surprise, it was Lucilfer who answered, not Melody.

“You possess a spell that will very likely be needed to restrain the dragon,” Lucilfer informed him.

Kurapika blinked in confusion as he ran through his large repertoire of spells. “Oh,” he mumbled, suddenly realising what Lucilfer meant. Yes, that spell could certainly work on a dragon, though Kurapika had never tested it on such a beast before.

But, seriously, did Director Cheadle have to share that information with Captain Lucilfer? Kurapika felt cold as he wondered what else the director had told Lucilfer about him.

“Kurapika’s presence is necessary for the mission,” Lucilfer continued, “but yours is not, Doctor Paladiknight. You can choose not to come.”

Melody seemed to deflate at the suggestion, her face falling as she turned worried eyes on Doctor Paladiknight. The doctor sighed and glanced at Kurapika.

“I’ll go,” he said. “But don’t expect me to take that dragon on directly. I’m a healer, not a fighter.”

“Then make sure that you stay out of the way,” Lucilfer responded.

Doctor Paladiknight’s eyes narrowed, and Kurapika was pleased to see that the captain hadn’t left a good first impression on Doctor Paladiknight either. It was petty of Kurapika to feel pleased about that, but also nice to have his feelings validated.

“Sure. I’ll just stand clear while you take the full brunt of the dragon’s breath,” Doctor Paladiknight said easily. “Happy to do that.” He gave Lucilfer a smile that wasn’t entirely friendly.

Kurapika bit his lip, trying to hold back his laughter as Lucilfer’s own grey eyes narrowed in response. Doctor Paladiknight’s eyes met Kurapika’s and his smile turned more genuine. Kurapika wondered if he’d gleaned more about Kurapika’s relationship with Lucilfer than Kurapika had initially thought.

After Melody wished them good luck and warned them to be careful, they left for the farm at which the dragon had taken up temporary residence, much to the elderly farmer’s dismay. Lucilfer had arranged for train tickets, which meant that the trip took a bit longer than it would have had they flown directly there, but Kurapika was glad for the chance to catch up on his reading. Reading was also a good way to ensure that Lucilfer didn’t bother him.

Doctor Paladiknight had brought his own reading material along, a medical textbook, from what Kurapika could see. He wondered if the doctor would swap him books on the way back—if any of them were in a condition to read by then.

They got off at the nearest town to the farm and hired piko to take them the rest of the way. The birds were sure-footed on the mountainous dirt roads and their long legs ensured a speedy arrival. Kurapika was very comfortable with the piko, as the Kurta commonly used them for transport, but Doctor Paladiknight looked decidedly ill as he awkwardly bounced on the large bird’s back.

Since reading on the back of a piko was a skill that Kurapika had regrettably never mastered, he’d lost his one defence against Lucilfer. And, of course, Lucilfer found a way to needle him.

“Those earrings are very beautiful,” Lucilfer commented, his piko keeping pace alongside Kurapika’s.

Kurapika chose to ignore the comment, but Lucilfer wasn’t deterred in the least.

“Kurta rubies, aren’t they? Are you from the Lukso province? Your clothing comes from that area too, correct?”

Kurapika scowled, shoulders hunching defensively. The tabard that he currently wore was handmade by himself in the style of his own people. He’d had to dispose of his previous one after the incident with Doctor Paladiknight and the spider demons. The Kurta had traded the garments they made to the other local settlers in the area, so Kurapika felt that the garment alone wasn’t enough for anyone to identify him as Kurta. Even the ruby earrings could be easily explained as having been acquired the same way.

In short, neither of these facts were conclusive proof that Kurapika was a survivor of the Kurta massacre. They were suspicious, however.

Not that Kurapika truly cared if anyone discovered his heritage. The only people who might be concerned that someone had survived were the mages who had massacred his people. If Kurapika ran afoul of them—well, at least he’d know who they were.

Still, Kurapika kept his heritage a secret. He didn’t want any misplaced sympathy or pity. Nor did he want anyone to interfere with his plans, even if they only had the best of intentions.

“Kurta rubies?” Doctor Paladiknight inquired from Kurapika’s other side. He clutched at his piko’s reins with such a tight grip that Kurapika felt sorry for his bird.

Kurapika pursed his lips, but Lucilfer was only too happy to explain.

“The Kurta were a clan indigenous to the Lukso province,” Lucilfer told the doctor over Kurapika’s head. “The rubies they mined are much prized for their very unique colouring.”

“Huh.” Doctor Paladiknight studied Kurapika’s visible earring with more interest than Kurapika was comfortable with. He felt his cheeks burn and he ducked his head, hoping that the loose strands of his hair might hide them. How rude of the doctor!

Lucilfer, seemingly pleased at having an attentive audience, continued on, much to Kurapika’s annoyance.

“The Kurta people were wiped out about six years ago,” Lucilfer continued. “Since then, no one has been able to enter the area to mine the rubies, cutting off the market’s supply.”

Only those without Kurta blood were barred from the area. Kurapika’s lips twisted up into a vindictive smile, but he kept his head down, hiding it from his companions.

It was the one small victory he could relish; that the violent deaths of his family members had twisted the magic in the area, inadvertently creating a sort of curse that kept outsiders from desecrating their bloodstained place of eternal rest. Kurapika, being of the same blood, could come and go as he pleased. Not that there was anything left for him there. The mages had utterly ruined the area, leaving no dwellings whole and no valuables behind.

“So, they’re worth a lot?” Doctor Paladiknight asked, eyes glittering with admiration as he stared at Kurapika.

“Yes,” Lucilfer agreed. “Kurapika could buy a palace with the money he could get from those earrings, should he care to sell them. I would certainly be happy to make an offer.”

“No,” Kurapika said shortly, hoping to end the conversation there.

“Just name your price,” Lucilfer said. “I can afford to be generous.”

“No,” Kurapika repeated.

“Kurapika, maybe you should—“

Kurapika cut off Doctor Paladiknight’s suggestion with another sharp, “No.” He urged his piko forward with a quick, “Hup!” The bird let out a squawk, but obeyed, spurring ahead of its fellows.

Behind him, Doctor Paladiknight and Lucilfer exchanged a look and a shrug.

* * *

The owner of the cherry rice farm greeted them with relief and stabled their piko for them while they immediately headed out into the fields to locate the dragon.

It wasn’t hard. All they had to do was follow the burnt patches of ground.

It was Doctor Paladiknight who spotted the dragon first, which Kurapika found a little surprising. Before they’d left the stables, Doctor Paladiknight had put on a pair of wire-rimmed glasses, leading Kurapika to wonder if he had eyesight problems. That was puzzling, since Doctor Paladiknight had never used glasses in Kurapika’s presence before.

“Over there.”

Doctor Paladiknight halted as he pointed the beast out. Kurapika frowned, squinting as he tried to determine if the bulk he could see was a natural part of the landscape or actually the dragon. Lucilfer halted beside him and likewise stared.

“So, what do we do now?” Doctor Paladiknight asked.

Kurapika fiddled with his rings before eyeing Lucilfer critically. Lucilfer returned his stare, letting him dangle on the hook for a moment before smiling condescendingly at him.

“I’ll distract the dragon and draw its breath while you cast your spell,” he said.

Kurapika stifled a breath of relief, not wanting to make his feelings obvious. He didn’t want either Doctor Paladiknight or Captain Lucilfer to think that he was a coward.

But he really didn’t want to go into this alone.

“Okay,” Kurapika said. He turned to Doctor Paladiknight. “Wait here.”

Doctor Paladiknight gave him a shaky smile. “Sure thing, Sunshine. Remember, let the knight captain take the hits, okay? Don’t mess up your pretty face.”

Kurapika snickered unkindly as Lucilfer bristled. Doctor Paladiknight looked very distinguished in those glasses, and suddenly facing a dragon didn’t seem like such an insurmountable challenge.

Kurapika and Lucilfer split up, approaching the dragon from opposite sides. The creature had been sunning itself in the grass, but noticed the interlopers as they came within ten meters of it. To Kurapika’s horror, both beady gold eyes fixed on him. Green scales gleamed in the afternoon sunlight as the dragon rose, claws digging furrows into the grass. Its neck was long and its frill was raised, a sure sign that it was aggravated by his presence. Smoke curled from its nostrils.

Then Lucilfer let out a cheerful little whistle, and the dragon’s long neck whipped around to focus on him. Kurapika began to approach with much more caution, as he didn’t want to draw the dragon’s attention back to him. The spell he planned to use was quick to activate, but Kurapika needed to be quite close to his target.

The dragon straightened to its full height, four legs keeping it stable as it faced the knight. Lucilfer was unintimidated—and still unarmed, much to Kurapika’s surprise. Did he plan to combat the dragon with magic alone?

Rumour had it that the knight captain was a fire mage, but that fact was hotly contested and debated. It should have been a relatively straightforward issue, as certain spells could only be used by those affiliated with a certain element, but there were eyewitness accounts of Lucilfer using magic that was supposed to be exclusive to elements other than fire.

If he was a fire mage, then fighting fire with fire probably wasn’t the best strategy. Still, Kurapika supposed that Lucilfer only had to distract the dragon and fire magic was certainly showy enough to do that.

Doctor Paladiknight’s water magic might have been able to counteract the dragon’s most dangerous attack, but Kurapika wasn’t sure how well versed the doctor was in attack magic. Kurapika certainly wouldn’t force him to participate if he felt inadequate to the task. The doctor would just be a liability if he couldn’t handle himself.

Kurapika froze in place when the dragon launched its first fire attack at Lucilfer. A hot orange flare blew out of its open mouth past sharp teeth, aimed straight for Lucilfer.

Kurapika held his breath, expecting the knight to dodge but—

—what the fuck? Why was he just standing there reading that book?

Kurapika was about to shout a warning, though he knew he’d be too late, but then a magic circle appeared beneath Lucilfer’s feet. A wall of light flared up. The dragon’s fire hit it and dissipated harmlessly into the air. A few sparks flew, dying before they touched the grass.

Kurapika began to breathe again. Thank God.

He began to approach the dragon from its blind side again, though his legs felt as though they were tree trunks rooted to the ground. The heat prickled along his skin and he could smell smoke in the air.

Don’t think about that. Just cast the spell, Kurapika told himself.

Confident that Lucilfer could handle the dragon’s attacks, Kurapika didn’t try to rush his approach. He was close enough that all the dragon would have to do was swing his tail and Kurapika would be done for.

Once he was within touching distance, Kurapika whispered a single word, the word that would activate one of his chains. Unlike Lucilfer’s spell, this one needed no magic circle. One of the chains attached to the ring on Kurapika’s index finger shot out toward the dragon. It looped itself around and around the startled creature, a seemingly endless coil of metal.

This was Kurapika’s Chain Jail spell, the one that Lucilfer had been referring to. Luckily for Lucilfer, the requirements to activate it were easy to fulfil, unlike some of the other spells at Kurapika’s disposal.

Kurapika’s weapon of choice were the chains attached to the rings on his fingers. Each chain had a specific ability, but he rarely used three of them. They required a special condition to activate, the nature of which that Kurapika intended to keep quiet.

The dragon struggled against the chains but, much to Kurapika’s relief, could not break free. Right up until this moment, Kurapika hadn’t been completely sure that the spell would be effective. He was pleased to see that it was working as intended.

Lucilfer snapped his book closed and gave Kurapika what seemed to be a genuine smile of congratulations. Kurapika returned it with a curt nod. From a safe distance away, Doctor Paladiknight let out a whoop that turned Kurapika’s lips up.

Now, all they had to do was find out why the dragon was acting up, and figure out how to deal with the problem.

Doctor Paladiknight approached, cautious of the struggling dragon. Kurapika’s chains weighed the large beast down and kept its mouth shut, preventing it from lashing out with its tail or using its fire breath. Lucilfer didn’t share Doctor Paladiknight’s reluctance, pacing around the dragon with a critical eye on it.

“It doesn’t appear to be injured,” he muttered.

Kurapika nodded in agreement. He couldn’t see any obvious injuries on the beast either. Had something spooked it so badly that it had forgotten its training?

“Kurapika, what colour is your magic?” Doctor Paladiknight inquired, stopping beside the receptionist.

“Gold. Why?” Kurapika asked.

“Because there’s some sort of red mist around the dragon,” the doctor said. “I thought it could be your magic, but it was there before you cast your spell…”

A cold, numb feeling settled in Kurapika’s gut. He turned to stare around them.

“What?” Doctor Paladiknight asked, noticing the change in Kurapika’s demeanour. “What are you looking for?”

“If someone cast a spell on the dragon to cause it to act up, then that person might still be around,” Kurapika said. He couldn’t see anyone in the field, nor near the wooden fence that hemmed the field. Puzzled, he turned back to the dragon.

“That’s impossible. Dragons are resistant to magic, right? That’s part of why they’re so hard to kill,” Doctor Paladiknight protested.

“Dragons are resistant to the spells cast by humans,” Lucilfer put in. “Demons have access to spells that we humans haven’t discovered yet.” The captain’s posture was now as wary as Kurapika’s.

Kurapika approached the dragon. It fixed one golden eye on him, as if it were blaming Kurapika entirely for its predicament. Uncomfortable with the dragon’s scrutiny, Kurapika turned back to the doctor.

“Here.”

Kurapika blinked in surprise as he realised that Doctor Paladiknight was right behind him. The doctor was holding his glasses out to Kurapika.

“These are spelled to show magic,” Doctor Paladiknight explained, anticipating Kurapika’s question.

Kurapika swallowed down what he’d been about to ask, startled to have the conversation jump three steps ahead of him so abruptly. He took the glasses from the doctor’s hand.

“Thanks,” he said, before setting them on his nose.

Doctor Paladiknight’s lips quirked up. Kurapika glared at him through the glass lenses. “Don’t laugh,” he warned.

Doctor Paladiknight raised both his hands in defence. “Actually, they look kind of cute on you,” he said with a chuckle.

From nearby, Captain Lucilfer rolled his eyes.

Kurapika turned on his heel with a huff, though secretly, he was both flattered and embarrassed.

He could immediately see the magic that the doctor had been referring to. His own gold magic twined around the beast, overlaying the physical form of the chains—and beneath that was the sinister red hue of another spell that appeared to have been laid before Kurapika’s own.

Then the red magic abruptly vanished. Kurapika flinched, but his own magic remained in place, still restraining the dragon. The beast lowered its head to the ground, seemingly resigned—or relieved? Kurapika couldn’t tell.

“Huh. The red magic just disappeared,” Kurapika murmured. “What does that mean?”

Before either of his companions could speculate, a laugh rang out. Kurapika jumped and whirled, chained right hand raising. Doctor paladiknight took a position next to him, feet braced and a knife glinting in one hand. Lucilfer had simply turned around to face the newcomer, his expression blank.

“Well, that’s a shame,” a dark voice hissed. “I was really hoping that you humans wouldn’t catch on so quickly…”

The creature sitting atop the fence board was undoubtably some sort of demon, though its form was unfamiliar to Kurapika. It was short, with skin as black as coal and glowing red eyes. It was incredibly skinny, with wide hands and feet. Though its shape was humanoid, there was nothing human in its sharp-boned face or malicious eyes. Its voice reminded Kurapika of the darkest, coldest winter night he’d ever experienced.

Kurapika took a step forward. With a single word, he could summon his Dowsing Chain. While he mostly used it for divining the location of people or objects, he could certainly use it as a weapon. Like the Chain Jail spell, it was easy to activate.

Perhaps it would have been wiser to let Captain Lucilfer take the lead, but Lucilfer hadn’t moved yet. Kurapika supposed that he was waiting to see what happened next. Smart, but someone had to make a move. If Lucilfer wouldn’t do it, then Kurapika had to.

“Who are you?” Kurapika demanded. “Are you a demon?”

If the creature was a demon, then it was the strangest demon he’d ever seen. Demons were animalistic things, supposedly borne from magic twisting normal animals into unnatural creatures. But this one looked too much like a human for that to be its origin. Unless…

Kurapika didn’t even want to follow that train of thought. No way could a human become a demon. That just wasn’t possible. Right? He’d never heard of that happening.

“You’ve ruined my fun,” the creature said. “You’ll have to make up for that.”

Then, the world dropped out from under Kurapika’s feet and he fell into a screaming void.

* * *

Leorio’s eyes were on the demon but he sensed Kurapika stiffen. Leorio’s own posture tensed in a subconscious mirror of Kurapika’s reaction. To what, Leorio couldn’t tell. The demon hadn’t actually made a move toward them yet, or cast any spells that he could see.

Kurapika’s posture was straight, his right hand no longer raised. It was hanging by his side. Leorio was about to ask if Kurapika had noticed something he’d missed (Kurapika was still wearing his glasses, after all)—but then Kurapika turned around to face him.

Shock sent a jolt up Leorio’s spine, and paralysed his brain. Kurapika’s eyes were glowing a deep crimson colour. The demon had red eyes as well, but Kurapika’s were red in an entirely different way. The colour looked threatening on the demon, but on Kurapika it was beautiful. Even calling it ‘red’ didn’t do it justice. It was a particular hue that Leorio had only ever seen in one other place—the Kurta ruby earrings adorning Kurapika’s perfectly-shaped ears.

“Kurapika?” Leorio asked warily. His glasses couldn’t be responsible for the change in eye colour, though they were magicked. Leorio’s friend Pietro had made them, so Leorio knew they were safe. Which meant that the change was due to something else.

The demon cackled from behind Kurapika, then vanished. Lucilfer cursed.

“Kurapika?” Leorio repeated uneasily. There was something very odd about the expression on Kurapika’s face. It was far too calm and peaceful for the situation, almost as if Kurapika had fallen asleep on his feet and was having a very pleasant dream.

Lucilfer finally seemed to realise that something was wrong with Kurapika. He stopped scanning the area around them to regard Kurapika with a frown.

Leorio sheathed his knife hesitantly, feeling a little ridiculous for still holding it at the ready when the only person in front of him was a friend. Lucilfer kept his magic book open, though, his face set into a troubled frown.

“Such pretty eyes,” Lucilfer murmured. “So, he is Kurta. How intriguing.”

“What? But you said they were wiped out?” Leorio inquired.

Lucilfer smiled in a way that made the hairs on the back of Leorio’s neck rise. Like this situation wasn’t already creepy enough.

“It seems that one of them survived.” Lucilfer looked positively gleeful about it.

Leorio’s temper rose. Kurapika was a person—more than his origin or race. The fact that Lucilfer seemed to be giving those things so much weight sat badly with Leorio. Why should it change anything?

But now was hardly the best time to argue about it.

With that unsettling halcyon expression still on his face, Kurapika raised his right hand, and one of the chains shot out toward Leorio.

Only reflexes honed by growing up in a rough neighbourhood saved Leorio. He dove to the side, the chain whizzing through the area where he’d just been standing, a sharp metal point slicing the air.

The dragon let out an eerie shriek and rose into the air, large wings flapping frantically. It fled, casting a long shadow across the field.

That meant that Kurapika had released the binding spell—so he could attack Leorio? What the hell was going on?

Lucilfer’s hand gripped Leorio’s arm, pulling him up before shoving him away.

“Leave this to me,” he said. “Stay at a safe distance and—“

He didn’t get the chance to finish his instruction. Kurapika’s chain shot toward them with alarming speed and accuracy. Lucilfer said something and the wall of light that he’d used earlier to block the dragon’s fire breath rose to protect them again. The sharp point of the knife at the end of the chain buried itself in the wall of light. Leorio watched with growing fear as cracks spread rapidly along the surface.

“Get to a safe distance and watch for the demon,” Lucilfer instructed, holding his book open with one hand while pushing Leorio with the other.

“But, Kurapika,” Leorio protested.

“He’s under the control of the demon, just as the dragon likely was. Now—move!”

Lucilfer gave him another shove before turning his attention to his spell, which had begun to crumble.

Leorio obeyed, moving to a distance of about ten meters away where he had a clear view of events, while still hopefully being out of range of Kurapika’s chain.

Kurapika and Lucilfer faced off, Kurapika’s expression still calm and unbothered. He could have been back on the train, focused on the content of his book, his hair brushing his cheek lightly as he read.

Leorio swallowed nervously. This definitely wasn’t the time to be thinking about how pretty Kurapika was—especially with those gorgeous eyes.

God, he had it bad. Leorio would have laughed at himself, but laughing at any part of this really wasn’t appropriate. Besides, Lucilfer didn’t need the distraction. However he personally felt about the captain, Leorio was sure that the knight didn’t deserve to die—and Kurapika was certainly aiming to skewer him.

Kurapika changed tactic, using two chains to try and capture Lucilfer, who dodged with admirable speed.

“Kurapika, what are you doing?” Leorio whispered. His fingers skated over the hilt of his knife as he ran through the spells he knew in his head. Most were healing spells, or spells that he’d learned to amuse his classmates. Good distractions, but nothing that could actually stop Kurapika. Causing a distraction might help, but it could also have the opposite of its intended effect—distracting Lucilfer instead of Kurapika. Given that Lucilfer was keeping one eye on his book at all times, Leorio was sure that he couldn’t afford to be distracted.

When the magic circle appeared beneath Kurapika’s feet, Lucilfer cast a spell in response. As Lucilfer’s feet left the ground, his coat flapping around his knees, the ground cracked open beneath him.

That nice farmer was going to be pissed, Leorio decided.

Lucilfer’s feet returned to the ground, a safe distance away from his opponent. As Kurapika approached him with steady steps, another circle appeared beneath Lucilfer’s feet.

For a moment, Leorio was blinded by a wall of grass and earth that had been torn from the ground and caught in a cyclonic wind. Both Lucilfer and Kurapika were completely obscured. Leorio squinted anxiously, but all he could see were occasional flashes of fire and what might have been streaks of lightning.

An uncomfortably long time later, the magical attacks petered off and both forms were revealed again. Neither were unscathed, but Leorio was glad to see that they were both still standing. Kurapika’s face was streaked with blood, his eyes still glowing that wondrous red colour and fixed on Lucilfer. Lucilfer still stood with his book open, the pages fluttering in the air. As Leorio watched, they settled, and Lucilfer flicked to another page.

A new circle appeared beneath his feet and Leorio let out an involuntary shout as a wall of fire, much larger than anything the dragon had produced, rapidly consumed the space between Lucilfer and Kurapika.

Much to Leorio’s confusion and alarm, Kurapika didn’t try to dodge the attack. He probably wouldn’t have been able to anyway, but it would have been a better option than trying to cast a spell in response. The magic circle never even had time to fully form beneath Kurapika’s feet before the fire hungrily consumed him.

Leorio bolted toward them, crossing the distance in seconds.

“What the hell?” he shouted at Lucilfer. “Why did you do that?”

Lucilfer’s grey eyes were as threatening as a thunderstorm, the eyes of someone whose patience had snapped. His face and clothes were dirty and ragged, but Leorio couldn’t muster up much sympathy for him. That had been a high level attack spell which could easily kill a person—which could have killed Kurapika.

“If I had access to Kurapika’s Chain Jail spell, I would have used it instead,” Lucilfer said calmly. “Unfortunately for your friend, I don’t have any spells like that.”

Leorio turned anxiously to where Kurapika had been standing. He was invisible, the flames still raging fiercely, as if they were caught in a whirlwind with Kurapika at its violent heart.

Surely Kurapika must have cast some spell to protect himself. He was a receptionist, trained in magic. He had to know defensive spells, right?

The fire dissipated, ashes falling like soft snow to the burnt ground. Kurapika was no longer standing. Instead, he was crumpled on the ground, smoke rising from his burnt form.

Leorio started forward. Lucilfer grabbed hold of his shoulder, but Leorio shook him off.

Leorio could feel the heat of the spell even through the soles of his boots. He knelt beside Kurapika, who was face-down, his blond hair a scorched mess.

“Kurapika?” Leorio whispered, the word coming out broken. His hands hovered over Kurapika’s body, not sure where was safe to touch.

Lucilfer’s boots crunched on the ground as he crouched beside Leorio. With no care for Kurapika’s battered form, he turned the receptionist onto his back.

Kurapika’s eyes were closed, making it impossible to tell if his eyes were still red or if they had returned to their usual grey colour. Leorio’s glasses were cracked and melting. Carefully, Leorio removed them from Kurapika’s face. They were no great loss. He had a small collection of them back in his home. Pietro kept giving them to Leorio to test every time the mage made modifications.

Lucilfer peeled open one of Kurapika’s eyelids, revealing a dusky grey iris. He let it close with a sigh.

“I suppose the demon decided that Kurapika is no longer of any use to it and dropped the spell,” he said.

Kurapika’s chest rose and fell slowly, much to Leorio’s relief. He was still alive—but could he survive such serious injuries?

Lucilfer stood, turning in place as he scanned the area. “It must have used Kurapika as a distraction while it escaped,” he said. “That’s disappointing.”

Fuck that demon. Leorio didn’t care where it was or what it was doing. He had a job to do. He was a doctor, damnit—the only member of this group who could do anything for Kurapika now.

He needed water. A lot of water. Water was the best way to counteract damage caused by fire magic. Kurapika would need the best, as magical injuries were not as easy to treat as normal injuries.

“Help me get him back to the farmhouse. Fast,” Leorio demanded of Lucilfer.

Lucilfer stared down at him, frown weighing his lips down.

“It might be kinder to not move him,” he pointed out. “You will certainly cause him a great deal of pain. Perhaps it would be best to…” Lucilfer paused. At Leorio’s silent, furious glare, he continued, “Let him go in peace. As much peace as possible, anyway.”

“I’m not giving up on him,” Leorio snapped. “If you don’t help me, I’ll, I’ll…” He trailed off, unable to think of any way to threaten the captain. Lucilfer was a very highly-ranked noble, even when not taking his captaincy and accomplishments into account. He was a personal friend of the king’s. The king’s eldest prince was a member of Lucilfer’s squad. Leorio was just a common-born sorcerer. He had no leverage against Lucilfer.

He couldn’t even use Kurapika as leverage. Sure, the Hunter Guild would be furious about losing a receptionist because the captain couldn’t be bothered to lift a finger to help, but they wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

“You’ll have him suffer unnecessarily because you can’t accept the inevitable?” Lucilfer inquired. His expression was curious, though detached, as if Leorio were a rather fascinating butterfly caught under glass and Lucilfer were a scientist studying the specimen.

“It won’t be unnecessary, you asshole,” Leorio barked. “He’s going to be fine.” Leorio’s fingers found an unburnt patch of hair, ash sticking to his skin as he felt the soft strands. “He’s going to be fine,” Leorio repeated, his dark expression daring Lucilfer—and God himself, if he were listening—to argue with him.

And Lucilfer didn’t argue. Instead, he just shrugged and flipped open his book again. Leorio vindictively hoped the damned thing would burst into flames and crumble to ash.

* * *

The farmer allowed Leorio to tend to Kurapika in an unused storage room. A brief debate was had between himself and Lucilfer about whether or not it would be worth it to go into town to fetch another healer, but since there wasn’t likely to be any of higher rank than Leorio there, he agreed that it probably wasn’t worth it.

Lucilfer made himself scarce while Leorio treated Kurapika’s burns as best he could. Even his strongest spells felt inadequate. After carting three buckets of water to Leorio’s side, the farmer tried to apologise for the incident, but Leorio brushed him off. He wished that he could have put the farmer’s concerns to bed a little more kindly, since it really wasn’t his fault anyway, but his attention was entirely focused on Kurapika.

Kurapika’s brows were drawn together in a pinched look that indicated to Leorio that he was certainly suffering, though he wasn’t conscious. After Leorio had done all he could, he made sure that Kurapika was as comfortable as possible before allowing himself to doze against the wall.

He feared that perhaps Lucilfer was right, though his pride—and his heart—refused to surrender to that possibility. Kurapika had to pull through, somehow. No other outcome was acceptable.

A soft, hoarse voice woke Leorio from his light, exhaustion-induced sleep.

“Doctor?”

Leorio knelt beside Kurapika, smiling broadly as he saw that Kurapika’s eyes were open. Unfortunately, that seemed to be the only improvement. His face still had that pinched, pained look and speaking appeared to be difficult for him. His breaths were ragged and weak, as if just the mere act of taking in air caused him pain.

Despite that, Leorio gave Kurapika what he hoped was a bolstering smile, while also trying to keep the tears at bay. He hoped that it was too dark for Kurapika to notice the tell-tale shine in his eyes. “Hey,” he said. “Glad you’re awake. That’s great. Really great.” He hoped that he sounded sincere, but Kurapika hardly seemed reassured.

“Thirsty,” he mumbled.

One of the buckets was still half-full and Leorio dipped a cup into it, but Kurapika refused the offer.

“Fresh water,” he clarified weakly.

“What? It’s water,” Leorio protested hotly, dumbfounded by what he felt was an unreasonable request.

“Fresh water,” Kurapika insisted, his voice becoming firmer as he met Leorio’s resistance.

The last thing that Leorio wanted to do was leave Kurapika’s side for any reason at all, but Kurapika was clearly getting agitated, which would only make things worse for him.

“Okay. I’ll go get fresh water.”

Kurapika’s face softened with relief. Leorio took one of the buckets out into the hall. He glared at the black-haired lurker who had been leaning on the wooden wall opposite the room’s entrance. Lucilfer followed him down the hall toward the back door of the house. The lanterns were still lit, though the farmer had gone to bed an hour or so ago.

“He just wants to get rid of you,” Lucilfer said to Leorio’s back.

“Shut up,” Leorio retorted, unwilling to entertain the captain’s speculation. Lucilfer seemed to be almost enjoying himself, as if he was just an observer who had no stake in what transpired. Didn’t he have any kind of a heart at all?

“He knows he’s dying,” Lucilfer continued, heedless of Leorio’s demand. “I imagine that he wants to spare you the pain. It’s very endearing.”

‘Endearing’. Leorio scoffed. “Kurapika’s just being a stubborn little shit. He’s always complaining about things. He’s not going to die.”

The last sentence rang hollowly in Leorio’s ears as cold night air hit his face. He stomped down the path to the well, Lucilfer still dogging his steps. He couldn’t accept that Kurapika was going to die—wouldn’t accept it.

“Don’t delude yourself, Doctor Paladiknight. Even Kurapika knows the truth. Accept it. Denying it will only make it harder for both of you.”

“Shut up!” Leorio snapped, ready to swing the bucket into Lucilfer’s head, consequences be damned.

Lucilfer backed off, realising that he’d pushed a little too far.

Leorio filled the bucket with fresh water from the well and made his way back into the house, Lucilfer following silently behind him. As he approached the door, he noticed a green glow emanating into the hall. He set down the bucket of water and peered around the doorframe. He froze at the sight of what lay within.

Kurapika was no longer lying on the blankets where Leorio had left him. He was now upright, his feet dangling several inches from the floor. His head was bowed, as if he didn’t have the strength to hold it up. Behind his head, its light turning his blond hair a sickly shade of green, a glowing cross hung. Chains were attached to it, their half-translucent forms wrapped around Kurapika.

“Kurapika!”

Lucilfer peered over Leorio’s shoulder at the spectacle. He chuckled softly, not sharing Leorio’s alarm.

Kurapika’s head rose as if he’d heard them. His eyes were once again glowing that strange, beautiful red colour. Kurapika’s lips turned up into a tired, bitter smile.

“’s okay,” he said. Sweat beaded down his temples. “Won’t take long.” He let his head fall forward again.

Leorio took a step into the room, but Lucilfer’s hand clamped down on his shoulder, pulling him back.

“Trust me, that’s not a spell that you want to interfere with,” he said.

“Spell?” Leorio demanded. He looked down. On the floor beneath Kurapika, a complicated-looking magic circle was etched in gold across the floor. It gave off a slimy, ominous aura that didn’t mesh with the receptionist at all.

“It may consume the caster,” Lucilfer continued. “Such high level magic is not to be trifled with.” He smiled, white teeth flashing green in the light from the spell. “I’m very surprised that a mere receptionist even knows such a spell. I suppose he doesn’t have anything to lose by casting it, but it’s certainly reckless of him…”

Lucilfer’s eyes glittered as he continued with his speculation, a child who had just found a new toy.

“A spell like that can only be cast by offering some sort of sacrifice. Usually a life sacrifice. Most mages don’t touch those spells. If you have to give your life, then what’s the point?”

Leorio sat down in the doorway of the room, effectively barring Lucilfer from entering as well. Kurapika still hung there, suspended like a limp doll, still and silent as the stars outside. Lucilfer’s voice trailed off behind Leorio. He heard the other man shuffling and seating himself some distance away with a sigh.

Leorio wasn’t interested in Lucilfer’s explanation. As long as the spell worked, Leorio would be fine with it. As Lucilfer had said, it wasn’t as if Kurapika had anything to lose.

* * *

The change the spell wrought in Kurapika was remarkable. When the cross disappeared and his eyes turned back to grey, he landed on the wooden floor with an _oomph_ that brought Leorio to his feet. Leorio hurried over to check on him.

Most of Kurapika’s injuries appeared to be entirely healed, the previously blackened or blistered skin now fresh and smooth. Kurapika was entirely unconscious though, not even stirring after his rough drop to the floor.

Leorio laid Kurapika on the blankets and did a quick check of his vitals, while also doing his best to ignore Lucilfer’s curious presence above him.

“I’d like to learn that spell,” Lucilfer murmured. “I wonder what other spells are attached to those chains?”

Leorio bit down on a sharp reply. Kurapika snored quietly, his breathing much easier than it had been earlier. His heart was beating strongly as well. It really did appear that he was going to live.

Leorio felt confused and a bit cheated. How could Kurapika know a healing spell that was stronger than any Leorio, as an A-ranked healer, knew? It shouldn’t have been possible. Besides, wasn’t Kurapika an earth mage? Earth mages could infuse herbs and plants with magic to increase their effect, but that was the extent of an earth mage’s ability to heal.

It seemed that both Kurapika and Lucilfer possessed magic that neither should know, given what Leorio had observed during their confrontation.

Nonetheless, Leorio was grateful that Kurapika would live. He settled himself more comfortably beside Kurapika, making no allowance for Lucilfer. He hoped that Lucilfer would take the hint and leave.

* * *

Kurapika opened his eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling lined with wooden beams. He felt so tired that he just wanted to go back to sleep, but his throat was parched.

Beside him, someone shifted.

“Water,” Kurapika groaned out.

A cup was held obligingly to his lips.

“Don’t you dare tell me that’s not good enough, Sunshine,” a familiar voice griped. “Because I swear I’ll dump the entire bucket over your head.”

Kurapika swallowed the lukewarm water down gratefully, barely able to keep from choking on a laugh. The doctor sounded most annoyed with him.

“I think I wouldn’t mind if you did,” Kurapika murmured.

“You’re sweating,” the doctor observed.

“That’s normal,” Kurapika agreed tiredly. “Always happens after Emperor Time.”

“Emperor Time?”

Kurapika groaned. He really didn’t want to have to explain the intricacies of his magic to anyone right now.

“Leave me alone. Need to sleep,” he grumbled.

“Okay. But we’re going to talk later.”

As long as it was later, Kurapika thought. He drifted off into darkness again.

* * *

When Kurapika woke again, it was to see dawn light spilling into the room. Doctor Paladiknight was still there, leaning against the wall, arms folded and eyes closed.

“Doctor?” Kurapika inquired as he levered himself into a sitting position. He kept hold of the blanket, having realised that he was naked beneath it. He hoped that the set of folded garments on the floor beside the doctor were for him.

Doctor Paladiknight opened his eyes. “Hey,” he said. His smile warmed Kurapika right to his toes. “You look much better.”

“I’m still tired,” Kurapika admitted. “That spell took a lot out of me.”

“Yeah, about that spell…”

Doctor Paladiknight dipped a cloth into a bowl of water and wrung it out before handing it to Kurapika, who gratefully used it to wipe his face.

“I’m sorry,” Kurapika said quietly, before handing the cloth back to the doctor. “But I don’t want to talk about the nature of that spell. I do have a question, however.”

“Sure,” the doctor said.

Well, that was unexpectedly easy. Kurapika had a nasty suspicion that the subject would come up again in the future—probably soon and probably right when he didn’t see it coming.

“What actually happened to me?”

“Huh? Oh, shit, I guess you don’t remember.” The doctor laughed sheepishly.

“No,” Kurapika said shortly. “I remember that demon saying something, then things got very loud and dark, until I woke up here.” He slid the blanket off his shoulder, frowning at the pale skin revealed. Skin that had previously been blistered and raw.

“Your eyes turned red and you attacked us,” Doctor Paladiknight explained. “Captain Lucilfer thinks that you were under the control of the demon.”

Kurapika closed his eyes. He felt sick and dizzy. He’d used Emperor Time without even being aware of it. How long had his eyes been scarlet? How much time had he lost?

“Lucilfer took you down with a fire spell,” Doctor Paladiknight continued. “He went overboard, if you ask me.” The doctor’s eyes gleamed with righteous anger, and Kurapika felt a bitter laugh tear its way out of his dry throat.

“How long were my eyes red?” Kurapika asked.

“Um, a few minutes, I guess?” the doctor asked. “I wasn’t counting.” He paused, concerned. “Is that important?”

“I suppose not,” Kurapika said wearily. So he’d lost a few extra days… or maybe weeks. Or months. In the grand scheme of things, did it really matter?

“We’re all fine, so…” The doctor coughed awkwardly. “We’re all fine,” he repeated more firmly, with a wobbly smile that left Kurapika wondering just how close to death he’d truly been. If even an A-rank healer hadn’t been able to help, and Kurapika’s Emperor Time had been necessary…

Kurapika shuddered.

“Here. If you feel up to it, you should dress. The captain wants to leave today.”

Doctor Paladiknight set the bundle of clothing down on Kurapika’s lap.

“Do you need any help?” he asked, his expression torn between hopeful and terrified.

“No, thank you. I can manage,” Kurapika said with a chuckle.

He was certainly aware that the doctor was attracted to him—the doctor had made that painfully obvious, and for the most part, Kurapika tried to forget that fact. But in moments like this, the doctor reminded Kurapika of a guileless puppy, and Kurapika felt just a bit smitten.

It would pass, Kurapika told himself as Doctor Paladiknight politely left the room to give Kurapika some privacy. Kurapika knew he was standing just outside the door, however, ready to duck back in if Kurapika asked for help.

Kurapika unfolded the clothes to find that they were a simple set of breeches and tunic, such as many of the villagers in this area wore. They lacked the vibrant colour of his tabard, but Kurapika was hardly in a position to be choosy. He dressed, taking care to go slowly as aching muscles and tired eyes threatened to send him curling back beneath the blanket.

He couldn’t help but try to run the calculations as he pulled on the clothes. The doctor had said that his eyes had been red for just a few minutes. Each second of each of those minutes had cost Kurapika an hour of life, plus the time he’d spent in Emperor Time while using the Holy Chain…

In an attempt to distract himself, Kurapika turned his thoughts to what he’d leave as an offering when he felt well enough to visit a church. It was something of a tradition for him to leave an offering after every use of the Holy Chain. He wasn’t sure why he did it, but it felt affirming.

“Doctor!” Kurapika called after dressing and folding the blanket neatly.

Doctor Paladiknight was immediately back, with his rumpled black hair and clothes. Kurapika almost groaned as he realised that Captain Lucilfer had followed the doctor into the room, and was studying him with a judgmental eye.

“Captain,” Kurapika said curtly.

“Kurapika,” the knight responded, his tone holding none of the hostility of Kurapika’s, or the apology that Kurapika felt he was owed. “Good to see you up. You were in bad shape there for a while.”

Kurapika got slowly to his feet. Embarrassingly, his knees wobbled threateningly. Doctor Paladiknight steadied him.

“Just take it easy, Kurapika,” he warned. “There’s no need to hurry. Mirron has offered us breakfast.”

Mirron, the elderly farmer, Kurapika recalled. Breakfast, especially one cooked with fresh farm produce, sounded amazing. Emperor Time always left him weak and starving. Kurapika thought he could fit an entire cow in his stomach.

* * *

Lucilfer splurged for first-class tickets back to the city, stating that he didn’t want to deal with crowds. Kurapika doubted his explanation, but since Lucilfer was rich, the expense probably wasn’t a big deal for him anyway. Perhaps the captain was hoping that the gesture would convince Kurapika to provide a more favourable report to the director when he got back to the guild. Kurapika planned on sticking with the facts, however—and one of those facts was that Lucilfer had almost killed him. If it weren’t for Kurapika’s use of Emperor Time, he truly would be dead.

“Can I get you another blanket?” Doctor Paladiknight asked, fussing over Kurapika as the blond settled against the window.

“No, thank you,” Kurapika said, smile tugging on his lips though he tried to restrain it. Doctor Paladiknight hadn’t left his side since that morning. That fact seemed to annoy Lucilfer, so Kurapika didn’t mind.

The remnants of Kurapika’s healing spell lingered in his cells, causing him some discomfort. He knew it was more of a mental issue than a physical one, and it was best if he tried to distract himself. Bothering Doctor Paladiknight proved an effective distraction.

Lucilfer sat across from them, glancing up from time to time over the cover of his book. Not the same one he’d been carrying, Kurapika noticed. This was a smaller volume, and much newer than the other, which sat on the seat beside Lucilfer.

Doctor Paladiknight finally sat down beside Kurapika, stretching out his long legs. His ever-present briefcase sat on the floor in front of him. Kurapika felt that the briefcase was in better shape than any of them. Even Lucilfer was showing some wear in the torn fabric of his coat, which he had not bothered to replace.

“It’s a shame about the dragon,” Doctor Paladiknight said. “I wonder where it went?”

“Home, likely,” Lucilfer put in. “With the demon’s spell lifted, it should be fine now.”

Doctor Paladiknight rubbed his face. “And the demon?” he asked.

The doctor looked even more exhausted than Kurapika. His face was pale and dark circles had taken up residence beneath his honey-brown eyes. How much magic had he used to try to help Kurapika?

I owe him, Kurapika realised. Without Doctor Paladiknight’s help, Kurapika wouldn’t have been strong enough to use Emperor Time. Still, Kurapika couldn’t voice his gratitude yet, not with Lucilfer sitting there, watching them like they were animals in a zoo.

“I’ll make a report to the guild. The Crown will likely put in a job request to locate the demon,” Kurapika said wearily.

“That’ll be S-rank, right?” Doctor Paladiknight inquired.

“Yes. So, out of your league, Doctor,” Kurapika said with a small smile.

“Rub it in, why don’t you?” Doctor Paladiknight said, though his tone was good-natured enough.

Why not? Kurapika figured. Prodding the doctor was still a favourite pastime and he had no intention of stopping.

* * *

Lucilfer’s only concession to his part in Kurapika’s trauma was a bouquet of white roses delivered to Kurapika’s dorm room by a puzzled Baise.

Doctor Paladiknight looked less-than-pleased to see the flowers when he entered the room at Kurapika’s invitation.

“Who are those from?” he inquired, eyes narrowed as if sensing a threat. The flowers sat innocuously in a vase on Kurapika’s table.

“They’re from Captain Lucilfer,” Kurapika explained as he took a seat in the chair next to the window. He’d pulled the curtains back to let afternoon sunlight in with a nice breeze. Doctor paladiknight perched on a chair at the table, glaring at the flowers as if they were a personal insult. “I guess he felt bad,” Kurapika said, though he didn’t really believe that, himself.

Doctor Paladiknight scoffed. “I don’t think that man has ever felt bad for anything or anyone in his life, ever,” he said. “You should burn them.”

The suggestion was offered in a very serious tone.

“That seems a mite unfair to the flowers,” Kurapika pointed out. “They are innocent, after all.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Still…” Doctor Paladiknight looked like he wished he could argue the point further, but couldn’t find a valid argument.

“how are you feeling?” Doctor Paladiknight asked eventually, changing the subject.

Kurapika smiled thinly. “Much better,” he said.

It had been five days since the mission, and Kurapika had almost fully recovered. The dragon had been reported to have safely returned home, and there had been no more sightings of the humanoid demon. Kurapika was concerned, however. The demon’s ability to override a creature—even a human’s—free will was very alarming.

He was a receptionist, however, and hunting the demon down wasn’t his responsibility. At this point, it would be a joint effort between sorcerers and knights. Lucilfer’s squad was probably out there in the area at that very moment, searching for any sign of the creature.

“I’m glad you invited me today,” Doctor Paladiknight said. “I hope you aren’t averse to more get-well-soon gifts…”

Kurapika perked up immediately, straightening from his lazy slouch to regard the doctor with surprise.

“You didn’t need to—“ he began, but the doctor cut him off.

“I thought that this might be useful to you,” he said. “And I’m running out of space for them anyway, so…”

He held a box out to Kurapika, who took it. Kurapika set it on his lap and opened it, revealing a cloth-lined interior separated into three compartments. In each compartment was a pair of glasses, just like the ones Doctor Paladiknight had worn on the mission.

“They’re spelled to show magic,” the doctor said, rather unnecessarily since Kurapika was already well aware of that fact. He shifted in his chair, clearly nervous and embarrassed.

“Thank you,” Kurapika said, honestly touched by the gesture. The glasses really would come in handy. “But, are you sure?”

“My friend makes them,” the doctor explained. “He keeps giving them to me, so I’ve got plenty of them. Just ask if you need more.”

Kurapika felt that would be imposing far too much on the sorcerer. “I’d prefer it if you gave me your friend’s information instead,” he said. “I’d feel bad about not compensating them in some way. Besides, I could recommend them to the other receptionists and sorcerers.”

“He’d be thrilled if you did that,” the doctor said as Kurapika carefully closed the lid of the box. He was treating it with more care than it probably needed, but Kurapika couldn’t bring himself to treat it with anything less than reverence.

“So, do I win over Lucilfer’s flowers?” the doctor asked with a mischievous grin.

“This is a competition?” Kurapika inquired.

The doctor agreed with an emphatic nod. “The flowers are useless, right? Besides, everyone gives flowers to sick people, especially in spring. It’s not very original.”

Kurapika couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up at the doctor’s ardent statements.

“If it’s a competition, then I suppose Melody wins,” he said.

“What?” Doctor Paladiknight demanded. “What did she get you?”

“Some cloth from the Lukso region so I can make another tabard,” Kurapika revealed.

“Shit,” the doctor muttered, sounding genuinely annoyed.

“You could always try again,” Kurapika suggested with a gleam in his eyes.

“You just want more presents, you little brat,” the doctor accused.

Kurapika feigned ignorance. “I have no idea what you mean,” he said innocently. He stroked the wooden lid of the box thoughtfully.

When had this happened? Why was it so easy to talk to this sorcerer? When had his snipes turned from malicious to playful?

It was nice, but uncomfortable at the same time. The doctor, thankfully, didn’t seem to understand the importance of Kurapika's scarlet eyes, or perhaps he was too polite to ask, or perhaps he was biding his time and waiting for the most opportune moment to ask. If he did ask, what could Kurapika say? Could he ignore the question, demand that the doctor drop it immediately, try to pretend as if what had happened was no big deal…lie and say he really wasn’t Kurta at all?

Kurapika couldn’t decide. All he knew for sure was that he did not want the doctor to become involved in his vendetta.

For today at least, the doctor seemed content to keep to an easy banter, staying away from weighty subjects.

“But Melody’s gift requires work on your part,” Doctor Paladiknight pointed out, making a case for Kurapika’s reconsideration. “Mine doesn’t, so it must be better.”

Kurapika propped his chin up, elbow on the arm of the chair. “If I say it’s better, will you shut up about it?”

“Not if you’re going to be so insincere about it,” the doctor retorted.

Kurapika settled in for what he suspected would be a long and ultimately frivolous argument that neither of them would ever truly win. He was content to pass his afternoon that way, however. Doctor Paladiknight seemed to feel the same, as his eyes danced with an enthusiastic light.

“Kurta cloth is very pricey,” Kurapika countered thoughtfully.

“And you give me a hard time for caring about money.” Doctor Paladiknight’s riposte was smooth and quick. “What happened to ‘there’s more to life than money’, huh?”

“What happened to ‘you can’t get anything done in this world without money’?” Kurapika returned, smirking.

The doctor leaned forward, ready with a reply as Kurapika continued to stroke the surface of the box, feeling a warm weight settle on his chest.

A few weeks more gone from his future. But a present that he wouldn’t have without that sacrifice. It was worth it, wasn’t it, this slow, crawling death?


End file.
